


The Skybreaker of Hogwarts

by Stubborn_Virus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22888495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stubborn_Virus/pseuds/Stubborn_Virus
Summary: Two Weeks after Mrs. Norris is petrified by an unknown force, Argus Filch receives an offer from another world.A chance to lay down the law and bring some proper order to these ungrateful brats.A chance to actually be meaningful to the plot instead of an occasional obstacle easily written out.A chance to infuriate two fandoms and get kicked off the internet.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	1. November 13, 1992

Filch bit back a snarl, as he paced the corridor. The school's discipline problem had been bad enough before, with Dumbledore being too _soft_ on the brats for their own good. And then nearly two weeks ago, on Halloween night, _someone_ had petrified Ms. Norris, leaving a threatening message to the muggleborn students for good measure. The Potter boy and his friends had been at the scene of the crime, but Dumbledore had refused to punish them, even when they were _clearly_ to blame. And now a student had been petrified...

"Something needs to be done…" Filch growled, as he turned and walked the other direction. He felt empty, without the cat at his heels, like part of his soul was missing. "There needs to be _discipline,_ and someone with the power to enforce it."

He'd tried, of course, but threats of detentions and hanging up by the ears were met with hidden snickers and rolled eyes. Despite his best efforts, he was still a Squib, and as a mere caretaker, he often found his authority subverted by teachers who were either too soft or too biased for their student's own good.

Filch turned back around. "What I need is a way to lay down the law, and make sure it _sticks_."

There was a slight rumble, and a door appeared in the wall, next to a tapestry of dancing trolls. Filch's eyes opened in surprise, then narrowed again. "What the hell…?" Doors were known to come and go in Hogwarts, of course, as passages formed and disappeared, rooms moved, and the castle in general spat in the face of common sense in a way uncommon even for the most arcane of magic. However, in his years as caretaker he'd grown used to the castle and its quirks, enough that he could usually predict the movements. This room, however, was unfamiliar. His eyes still narrowed, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. 

Or rather, outside. Filch stepped onto a stony cliff side, twilit sky marked with unfamiliar stars. Standing at the edge of the cliff, facing away and arms folded behind his back, stood a dark-skinned man in a black and silver uniform. As Filch entered, the man turned to look at him, revealing a pale crescent-shaped mark on his cheek. 

"Argus Filch. I've been waiting to speak with you."

“What the bloody hell…?” Filch looked past the man, catching sight of the moon- except the moon wasn’t normally that small and purple, right? Or having a second, blue counterpart starting to poke its way over the horizon. 

The man held up a strange device, made of gold and several glowing gemstones. “Justice is a universal ideal, Argus Filch. The divide between us can not divide the true nature of it, and I have been watching. _They_ have been watching.” Around the man, black lines seemed to form and open up, revealing starry backdrops before disappearing. 

“I have no idea what the _hell_ you’re talking about. All I know, you’re breaking into _my_ school and we can’t have that, can’t we?” Filch growled, doing his best to look intimidating, but the man’s face never changed, nor the monotonous tone of his voice. 

“I have not entered your school. I did facilitate a connection, but you were the one who initiated it. As I said, I have been watching, and waiting for you to meet with me. After all, I could hardly come and meet you without invitation, not without breaking in and defying your laws.” The man put his device down, and approached. “If you are serious about the need for law and justice in your school, then I can help you.”

Filch narrowed his eyes, but he had to admit, his interest was piqued. “How?

"Under normal circumstances, I would take you under my direct tutelage as a disciple, to follow and learn until you were ready to say the Words. However, given your normal… location," The man glanced behind Filch, who turned and saw the doorway back to Hogwarts, apparently opening out of a nearby boulder. "I can make an exception, provided I am given regular updates. As I understand it, the connection should open once every 16 days. I will make sure to be here, as shall you." 

Filch glanced at the door again. _It opened as I was passing it… because of what I was saying, about a need for order?_ He filed the thought away for later.

The man glanced towards his side, at one of the black slits in the air. “This is an atypical situation for us all. Normally, I seek out those suitable for recruitment. However, the Highspren have determined you worthy. And given that you were out of my normal reach, it was only with their help that I could bring you here.” He turned back to Filch. “Speak the word, and I will sever the connection, and we shall never see each other again. But if you truly value the law and wish to see it upheld in your world-”

“I do.” Filch nodded, glancing at the black slits. One opened wider at his gaze, showing flickering stars as it seemed to approach. It seemed to examine him for a moment, before shutting. 

The man nodded, as the slit reopened next to him. “This will be more atypical than I assumed, it seems. The Highspren have already decided to bond with you. Normally, there would be a vetting process, of course. However…” He stuck his hand to the side, and with a puff of mist a sword appeared in his hand. He stabbed it in the ground between himself and Filch, and gestured him to step forward. “I can improvise as necessary. Place your hands on the hilt, and speak the Immortal Words, if you can.”

Flich put his hands on the sword, but narrowed his eyes again. “What words?”

 **_THESE WORDS_ **.

Filch frowned, eyes going wide as nine words dropped into his head. He didn’t know where they came from, or where the voice had come from, but he knew what he had to say. 

“Life before death. strength before weakness. journey before destination.”

**_THESE WORDS, ARE ACCEPTED._ **

Filch breathed in, feeling somehow stronger from just saying those words. The other man smiled- it wasn’t much of one, obviously the smile of a man who rarely did so and may have forgotten how, but an honest one at least. He pulled out a glowing sphere from a pouch at his waist, and held it up to Filch. “Breath.”

Flich breathed again, and the light from the sphere darkened, as it traveled like mist into his nose and mouth. Raw power flooded his body, like a raging tempest. He felt strong, quick, like he could punch out a Nundu and escape before he was infected, if one somehow appeared. He looked up at the man, as several of the little black lines opened up to stare at him. “What…”

“Hold it in. You will not need air so long as you have Stormlight, all the better since you risk breathing it out.” The man lifted his sword back up, and it disappeared in a puff of mist. “Unfortunately, to my knowledge there is no Stormlight in your land, or any similar enough form of Investiture for you to use. I will provide you with some during our meetings, of course, though I advise you perhaps do some research into alternatives when you are not studying.” The man pulled from seemingly nowhere a stack of papers, bound by a gold clip with a blue gem on it. “I believe that in your land, men are permitted to read?”

“What? Of course, they are, why wouldn’t they be?”

The man said nothing, his face having long resumed its normal stoicism after his attempt at a smile. He instead handed Filch a small sack filled with more glowing spheres, to go with his papers. 

Filch glanced through the stack, noting as he did so that they were in an unfamiliar script. “How am I supposed to read this?”

“The clip will translate into the language of your land, while you are there. Outside of it, it will translate to the local language wherever you are.” One of the black slits opened and shut, prompting a look from the man. “I do not know the exact details of how it works, just be warned when next we visit, you won’t be able to consult your homework.”

Filch nodded, and glanced back at the papers, leafing through them. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“Very well. Make good use of your Stormlight, and study carefully. I will be interested in seeing your unique perspective on things when next we speak. It isn’t often, after all, that a Worldhopper joins the order.”

The second blue moon had cleared the horizon by now, and the man turned away. “Return to your land, now. I will see you in 16 days, Argus Filch.”

Filch slid the pouch of spheres into a pocket, and looked back at the man, eyes narrowing. “How do I know you’ll be here? Assuming I can even get back. I don’t even know your name.”

The man didn’t turn around. “The Highspren who bonded with you will accompany you. I’m sure they will be willing to help, given how eager they were to have me seek you out.” The man paused, before glancing back towards Filch. “And I have many names. You may call me Nale.”

And with that, the man stepped off the cliff. Filch started to shout, only to stare as the man flew off into the distance, with no obvious way of doing so- no wings, no broomstick, nothing. After a moment, he closed his mouth, and glanced towards the door in the boulder. With a shrug, he walked back into Hogwarts, closing the door behind him as he did so. 

It took him a moment to regain his bearings- for some reason, he felt heavier in Hogwarts than he did in that other world- or was he just tired? Had he just imagined the encounter?

Filch glanced down at his stack of papers. The gem clip glowed for a second, and before his eyes, the text changed to English letters. Out of the corner of his eye, a black slit opened up in the air next to him, revealing a field of stars, before closing and disappearing again. 

“Well well well…” mumbled Filch to himself.  
Mrs. Norris was petrified, yes. There was a vandal running around the school, scaring muggleborns, yes. And Harry Potter had stumbled on his biggest secret- or at least, what _had_ been his biggest secret. But as Argus Filch began paging through his now translated “Homework”, he began to smile. Things were about to change.


	2. November 29, 1992

Argus Filch frowned as he paged through his "homework". The text itself wasn't too difficult- segments from what were obviously philosophy books, written by strange names like Nohadon and Shauka-daughter-Hasweth, a handful of historical texts detailing Nale's group, the one Filch had now joined- The Order of Skybreakers, and some assorted notes from Nale himself. 

The texts themselves weren't too much of a problem perhaps, but the more he read, the more Filch struggled to understand things. Too much of the writings were reliant on context from a world he hadn't seen more than a few minutes in a cliffside of. How was he to know what Shinovar was like, compared to the rest of the world, or the importance of Urithiru? What was all this talk of Dawnsingers and Desolations?

Still, enough was understandable that Filch could get the gist of it. He was now a Skybreaker, one of the orders of knights who had once protected Nale's world, and the only one to stay loyal while the other nine betrayed humanity. On Nale's world, they helped enforce the law in secret, while also preventing the return of the treacherous orders.

Filch suspected there was something more, of course- the history seemed too simple, more a general overview, and Nale even admitted in his notes that some things had been left out, to be covered in more detail as one ranked up and swore further Ideals. 

_ There's something suspicious about this… _ thought Filch. He'd give the man the benefit of the doubt for the moment, though. Whatever he was doing in the other world didn't concern Filch, not if something nasty was up, Filch could always save  _ his _ world by putting a cheap  _ Allohamora _ -resistant lock on the door and adding a sign saying "Essay Archive/Storage''. The lock would work on most students, and the sign would  _ probably _ keep out Peeves and the Weasley twins, so it should suffice to keep Nale out if he needed.

A black slit opened up next to Filch, the Highspren seeming to read the papers Filch had put. The creature had yet to say anything, if indeed it could, and it didn't seem to be visible to anyone else, be they student, teacher, ghost, or Peeves. Which suited Filch just fine, since he didn't feel like being asked questions he still didn't have the answer to.

Filch checked his office's wall clock. He'd go on his rounds in a few minutes, making sure to end on the seventh floor, right next to the tapestry and the mysterious disappearing door. With a sigh, he gathered up his papers and translation clip, shoved them into a bag, and started on his way, before turning back and grabbing the bag of spheres Nale had given him. He took a quick look inside- Yep, mostly dim. They'd shone bright for about a week, but after that had gone dull, barely glowing at all, and an experimental attempt to breath in the light had shown minimal effect.

_ I'll ask Nale for new ones, I suppose. Annoying, though _ .

Still, it was better than nothing. Even a little of the light made him faster and stronger, which was surprisingly helpful when walking the halls. Just the other day, he'd chased down and grabbed some 5th years who he'd caught pulling paintings off the walls and sticking them back on upside-down. Exactly _why_ they did that, Filch didn't know, but three different Sticking Charms combined like that would have, before he met Nale, required an afternoon of elbow grease and a Spell-Solvent Potion to remove, whereas dragging the trio back and threatening them with their choice of some _Finite Incantatum_ s and minus 10 points each, or detention, took only 30 seconds and a bit of Stormlight.

The Highspren had been watching, of course, and seemed pleased by his actions. Exactly how a slit in the universe exhibited emotions like that, Filch wasn't sure, but he could sense them. He could feel glee as he shouted at fighting brats until they put down their wands, satisfaction as he took points for rule-breaking. The creature liked justice, and Filch was quite happy to dole it out.

Still, he couldn't help but feel impotent. Except for a few rare cases like the upside-down painting, nothing much had changed. If anything, things had gotten  _ worse _ , as more and more kids realized how much easier it was to get away with things without Mrs. Norris backing Filch up. 

Still, he had a job to do. Someone had to wander the halls, if only so that the results of prank-gone-wrong wouldn't fester. 

Filch marched, lantern in one hand, Highspren floating invisibly over his shoulders, occasionally floating off to open up and "stare" at things, especially paintings and children. As he passed the great hall, it even turned around and flew back to stare at a tiny blonde Ravenclaw who was hanging up some parchment outside the door- it was still staring when Filch had circled around through the hallways and back to the great hall, as the girl hung up yet more parchment. Filch gave the sheets a quick glance- Lost-Item notices, by the looks of them. There were some spots next to the great hall, for putting up such things, so there was no problem there, though out of the corner of his eye, just down one of the side halls, he caught a glimpse of a few more Ravenclaws watching her and giggling. He shot them a glare as he walked- He wasn’t stupid, after all, he could read the obvious implication. Still, there was hardly anything he could do about it with just implication.  _ This is the fault of the teachers, and the prefects. A student should go to them and there should be action. Too soft with the brats, not willing enough to punish when rules are broken, so they push and get away with more, and look… _

The thought made Flich pause for a moment. Something felt off about it, but he couldn’t say  _ what _ . It was all perfectly in line with how he thought, and had thought for the many years he’d been caretaker. Kids were rotten rulebreakers, and needed to be punished, simple as that. As it had been, as it would be. Yet as he glanced at the young Ravenclaw, he felt he could feel something more. 

_ They break the laws, and that causes problems for other students. That’s obvious enough. But why do I care? _

Filch narrowed his eyes, and shook his head. The Highspren closed and reopened over his shoulder, releasing a burst of implied confusion down whatever link that let him detect what it was feeling. Filch glanced towards it, then towards the girl, then towards the still-staring cluster of Ravenclaws. With a sigh, he moved on. The Highspren let out another burst of confusion, before disappearing again. 

And so he went. Students tended to keep out of his way if they could, and those who couldn’t often moved to the walls and slowed in an effort to not be noticed. A few hooligan types had tried to hex him before, but even before Nale had given him Stormlight, he’d learned how to sense when someone was pointing a wand at his back, and how to dodge fast enough to avoid spells while slow enough to not give away what he was doing.  _ Had I been a wizard, perhaps I’d have made a good auror,  _ he thought, not for the first time. The Highspren opened and closed, releasing a bit of confusion. Filch glanced at it, trying to guess what the creature was trying to say. He checked to make sure no one was around, before glancing back and whispering. “Auror. Constable, police, those sorts. I’ve read enough of your world’s philosophy to know you have  _ those _ .” 

The Highspren pulsed a bit of affirmation, then confusion. “What?” Filch stopped walking, looking at the thing straight into the open starry slit. “I can’t speak emotion very well.”

The Highspren fluttered, closing and opening rapidly, before a bit of resignation came down the emotional connection. Filch shrugged, and continued on his way. The rest of his patrol was uneventful, and as planned, it ended with him in the corridor with the dancing troll tapestry. Filch focused, and began to pace.  _ It’s time for me to check in with Nale.  _ He turned and paced the other way.  _ It’s been sixteen days, as he said. Ruddy stupid number if you ask me… _ Turn, pace.  _ So open up, you damn door, and send me back. _

The door appeared on the wall, and Filch pushed his way through. This time, however, he emerged into a closet of some kind, not a cliffside. Confused, he stepped through the door and towards the far end, and out a second door and into a hallway. Almost as soon as he did, he was descended upon by a woman, screaming at him in some language he didn’t recognize. He started for a moment, about to respond, when a different voice started speaking- one he recognized, but in the woman’s language. Nale stepped out from around a corner, as passive and emotionless as ever. A few exchanged words, and the woman turned and walked the other way. Filch frowned, and looked at Nale. Nale said nothing at first, digging around in a pouch tied to his belt before handing a bracelet to Filch. 

“Put this on.” He said, in English. “The door did not open where I anticipated. Fortunately it at least ended up in the same building, but I will have to make adjustments going forward.” Nale lifted his hand, examining the gold-and-gem device hooked to it, before stuffing it in a pouch. “I will be able to send you back, however. Your school facilitates the connection.”

Filch nodded, then examined the bracelet- a simple leather band with a disk of concentric rings of metal. He felt a bit of warmth as he put it on, and as he walked he could hear voices from the other room. He intellectually recognized that they weren’t speaking English, but somehow, he could understand them.

“What-” Filch stopped- his words weren’t in English anymore.    
Nale glanced at him. “You’re speaking Veden now. The fabrial will make it as though you were a native speaker of wherever you are. In this case, Jah Kaved. Specifically, Northgrip. A few of my disciples tracked what we believe to be a rogue Surgebinder." Nale looked away. "We suspect him to be a Lightweaver or an Elsecaller. Either way, I've brought some of my newer students along to help investigate."

"Including myself?"

"I will send you home by a reasonable time. Still, I'm sure you might have some useful insight. Both are some of the trickier Surgebinders to catch, and I would argue a Lightweaver is perhaps the most dangerous of them all. Their spren, after all, are Liespren."

Nale led Filch into a room, where a handful of men and women sat, waiting. Two guards in uniforms similar to Nale's stood by the door, nodding as they entered. The seated, presumably other of Nale's disciples, stared at Filch as he entered, a few whispering to each other, though Filch didn't catch anything besides "old" and "Shinovar". Filch sent them a glare as he took a seat- they looked young enough they could have been recent graduates of Hogwarts, a few perhaps being seventh year at most.

Nale said nothing for a few minutes, staring out a small glass-less window with heavy wooden shutters. A dozen or so Highspren appeared around him, opening and closing as they seemed to examine the students, some drifting towards Filch and his own Highspren. Nale finally turned around, emotionless gaze boring into the group.

"One of my sources reported what they believe to be unaided Soulcasting in this city. The Vorin Church denies this, of course. They've been embarrassed enough by that Alethi Princess going around using an unauthorized Fabrial, Soulcasting without is plain unheard of."

Nale paused, and Filch took the opportunity to try to process things. He didn't know what Soulcasting was, but he could piece together that it was restricted in use.  _ Perhaps like Portkeys by the Ministry? Depending on what it is, that could make sense. _

One of the students, a dark-skinned woman holding a sheath of papers, raised a hand. "What evidence is there for Soulcasting?"

Nale turned to her. "There is a sculptor in this city, a man with a reputation for almost impossible accuracy with his work." Nale went to a table and lifted up a small statue of some sort of creature, midway between a bat and a dragonfly. "The detailing is quite incredible. As though he'd taken a dead creature and Soulcast it into stone." Nale handed it to the woman, who turned it over in her hands. "Of course, it is not impossible for someone to be so skilled in his craftsmanship. Which is why we will be investigating further. Not only must we confirm that he is a Surgebinder, we must also find a reason to bring him to  _ justice _ ."

Nale turned away again. One of the other students, a man with red hair, raised a hand. “Surely if we determine he’s a Surgebinder, that would be enough?”

“Surgebinding is not illegal in this city," said Nale, not even bothering to turn. "The church has no authority to demand anyone stop Soulcasting, barring excommunication, which I doubt would matter much for our suspect. He is not a Brightlord who must keep up appearances."

Filch narrowed his eyes, focusing. Things were going a bit fast for him, he had to admit- too much of the discussion relied on context he didn't have, even with Nale's homework.  _ Surgebinding, that's some kinda magic or something, obviously. Soulcasting… Transfiguration, maybe?  _ Filch glanced at the statue of the strange creature.  _ I've seen students turn each other's robes to stone like that before, when I've caught them fighting. Definitely some sort of Transfiguration, though not an application I've seen before.  _

Another student had asked a question, and now Nale was explaining something about how the local constables went about investigating, when they bothered to at all. Filch knew the feeling- He wasn’t stupid, after all- more than a few of Voldemort’s followers in the war had escaped justice, and continued to run around freely. He’d even  _ heard _ some of their kids brag about it, but there wasn’t really much he could do. Not as a Squib hearing things second-hand through kids who were “Obviously making things up to sound more impressive to their peers”, as one parent had said when confronted.

“Do you have anything to add, Argus?” Filch glanced up as Nale spoke, cold eyes meeting his. The other students looked at him, while Filch frowned. He  _ did _ have a lot of questions, actually, but too many of them were dependent on context he didn’t have, but the other students probably would. Filch paused for a moment, before risking a question. 

"How relevant  _ is _ all this to what we're going to be doing, anyway?"

A few of the students managed to look scandalized, but Nale took it in stride. "A good question. One should know what they're getting into before taking action, of course. Which, of course, is why we're talking now instead of chasing down our rogue Surgebinder." Nale began to pace. "The Order of Skybreakers represents justice to  _ all _ of Roshar. When we travel, we wear the uniforms of the local constabulary and follow their laws. For although we administer it, we are  _ not _ above the law. No one is." Nale turned and looked Filch in the eye. "Justice is a universal Ideal. An individual is unreliable, so we look to something greater than us to follow. Even if laws are imperfect, being made by unreliable men, they represent the ideal of how things  _ should _ be. Our duty is to make sure that everyone plays by those same rules, that all are held accountable."

Nale turned to address the rest of the class. "Our fallen kin, the Order of the Windrunners, considered us too rigid. 'What is justice without mercy? How can one change without given a chance to?'" Nale paused, flickers of emotion crossing his cold eyes for a moment. "They are gone now. We are all that's left to protect mankind. There  _ is _ no other option any more." Nale turned away again. "That is why we do this. Why we follow the local rules, even if it would make things easier. Even if it means we have to let Surgebinders go and have to come back later to find another angle. Because when everything is settled, the law is all that's left."

The room was quiet- Students, Guards, and Highspren alike staring in rapt attention. Filch stared for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Finally, Nale turned and walked out of the room. "Discuss among yourselves. What might you do to collect evidence on our target, either on legal failings or in his surgebinding. Argus, would you step outside for a moment with me?"

The other students stared a bit, before turning towards each other to discuss. Filch frowned, and followed after Nale.

Nale led Filch past the guards, and into a small room. A roll of cloth wrapped around something with a black handle sat on a bed, and Filch felt his eyes drawn towards it as he passed. He could almost hear something, muffled, part of it trying to get him to pull whatever it was out, another part feeling slightly sick staring at it, until Nale moved it away. “I’d advise against touching this. It has a habit of killing everything in the room,” he said. 

Filch tore his eyes from the bundled thing, as Nale pulled out a small bag. “I assume your spheres went dull after a few days?”

“Right.” Filch pulled out his own bag, checking on the dim spheres within. Nale took the bag, looking inside, before handing Filch the new one.

“You do well to practice, of course. I assume you have?”

“I have, a bit.”

Nale turned, emptying the dull spheres into a bowl. “I expect you have several questions you felt unaskable during our discussion. To start with, I don’t expect you to aid in our hunt, beyond participating in discussion on our meeting days. I anticipate we will be here for some time. Surgebinders can be tricky, a potential Lightweaver all the more so.”

“So you say.” Filch narrowed his eyes. “What do they do, exactly?”

“All Surgebinders can use two of the ten Surges. I, and eventually, you, have Gravitation and Division. Our rogue Surgebinder has Transformation, that is, Soulcasting, which you saw the result of. Therefore, they are either a Lightweaver, meaning their other surge is Illumination, or an Elsecaller, Transportation.”

Filch processed for a moment. “Transportation, what’s that? Apparition? Jumping from one place to the other?”   
“Something like that. You can of course see why that might make things difficult, if our target both has it and has learned to use it.”   
“And Illumination? Can’t just be your version of  _ Lumos _ .”

Nale paused. “I’d assume not, knowing what I do of your world’s Investiture. Illumination has to deal with manipulation of light and sound. It is quite useful for hiding, of course.”

Filch nodded. “I might be able to help with that, a bit. I’ve dealt with enough students trying their luck with Disillusionment charms and the like.” He paused for a moment, trying to judge Nale’s look, as cold as ever.

“Perhaps. But as I said, I don’t expect you to help. You have your own duties, after all. And there are certain differences between our worlds and positions that must be taken into account, as well.” Nale turned towards the window. For a moment, his stoic monotony gave way a bit. “There was a time when things weren’t so desperate. But we  _ must _ prevent the return of Surgebinding. By whatever means necessary.” He glanced at Filch. “Your school, however, does not require such measures. Children must be taught to act properly, and to use their power safely, but the means of justice need not be as drastic.” He turned back to Filch, tugging at one of his gloves. “Your duty is to ensure that it stays that way. Only through properly administered justice, can you ensure your world keeps steady. When you have advanced more, we will talk more on this. For now though, it’s time you return.” 

Filch nodded, fingering his bag of spheres, as Nale handed him a new stack of paper. The cold, sterile edge to his voice returned. “Obviously I underestimated the amount of background knowledge you would need if you are to participate with my other disciples. Your homework will be in part to help remedy that. I have also included some questions for you to answer. Primarily about your local justice system, some I’ve added about your local Investiture. Especially if you have anything to add that might make it easier to track down Surgebinders, after your study.” Nale paused. “Depending on your answers, I may request my own opportunity to visit your world. Given the nature of your school facilitating the connection, I suspect I will need permission from your school master, correct?”

“Probably, yeah.”

Nale nodded. “Things must be done correctly, in accordance with the local rules. We are  _ not _ above the law, nor must we administer it unjustly.”

Nale turned, and Filch waited for him to speak, but he said nothing, merely putting on the jewel-and-gem device and gesturing to a closet door. Filch paused, before nodding and opening the door, stepping back into Hogwarts.

As the door shut behind him, Filch walked over to a nearby window, catching sight of the clock tower. He blinked, and pulled out his own pocket watch. His pocket watch was off by about a half hour. 

The Highspren opened up next to him, examining the watch, then seeming to look at the tower. Filch shrugged, stuffing the watch back into his pocket, before glancing at the creature. “Strange stuff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.  
> I don't think I'm too far off Nale and Filch, in terms of personality, but it's difficult. We don't see much of Filch, and my Beta has never read the Stormlight Archive, so I can't check against them.  
> Worse comes to worse, it could be that Filch sees Nale differently than Szeth and Lift do. That would make sense to me, since Filch is neither a reluctant assassin or on Nale's hit-list.

**Author's Note:**

> Earth-Time: During Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets  
> Roshar-Time: Sometime before the climax of Words of Radiance
> 
> I'm sorry.


End file.
